Fluffy Featherbed
by Writer Awakened
Summary: L'Arachel/Eirika. Otherwise known as L'Eirichel! Le yay. After all that unpleasant "war" business, L'Arachel invites Eirika over to sleep and frolic in the royal fluffy featherbed with her. Fluffy. FEATHERBED!


_Fluffy Featherbed_

- - -

I wanted to write a story about a fluffy featherbed. Also, Eirika and L'Arachel are two of the most beautiful and elegant women in FE8, and I wanted to write a romantic story about them. Sooooo…L'Eirichel featherbed fic!

Enjoy!

(L'Eirichel. Yay for catchy girl love pairing names!)

- - -

They loved the fluffy featherbed, with all its funny springs and fluffy feathers and gigantic oversized pillows. It was a super featherbed, gigantic and with feathers and cotton and some wool and some bouncy springs and everything wonderful and fantastic and fantasterful and wontastic. They loved being in L'Arachel's chambers, with the sparkling white and bright yellow walls. The floors were all pristine and marbled and there were pillars in many of the rooms.

The greatest fluffy featherbed in the Rausten castle was reserved for L'Arachel's private chambers. The Pontifex retired in a simple chamber to a plain, firm, simple bed. The young princess woke up every morning to crusade against evil surrounded by soft bedding that she sank into like a marble onto a cotton sheet. She leapt off of the bed every morning and the bedding bounced right back up.

L'Arachel loved fluff. She loved rhyming words, too. And she liked to have _fun_.

Because she just wants to have fun.

Oh she just wants to have fun.

Yeah yeah.

She just wants to have fun.

So, one day, L'Arachel sent an envoy to Renais that Princess Eirika would accompany her in the Rausten court, where they would dine marvelously and have a lavish time firmly ensconced in the inner chambers of _fun_!

Princess Eirika rode over as quickly as she could, and greeted L'Arachel with a warm hand and a gracious smile. L'Arachel had taken her hand and swept her away toward her chambers to have some _fun_.

- - -

A servant of the Pontifex strode through the halls of the court. The young man bore a message to the young Princess L'Arachel from her uncle. He slicked back his black hair and straightened his garb so that it was utterly perfect and as aesthetically appealing as possible. After being saturated in pure white light for a while, he reached the grand door to the young lady's chambers and prepared to rap when he heard a sudden sound.

"Oooh!"

It was the princess! The voice came from inside the chamber, past the walls. It was a sharp utterance, and sounded very pleasant. The young man stepped closer to the door and leaned in.

"Ooooh! Eirika, that is _wonderful! _I simply adore the touch of your hands!"

The young man pricked up and pressed himself as quietly and as firmly against the chamber door as he could. The voice was being accompanied by a

Now, a different voice, one he recognized as that of L'Arachel's guest.

"Aaah…that does feel good…"

Ooh! Ooh! _Ooooohhh_! It was happening! A girly sleepover, and it was turning _interesting_! Hee hee hee. The young man's mouth watered and his heart pounded. He played an ever-increasing accordion of cartilage.

"Ooh! Ooooh!" L'Arachel's voice. "Oh, Eirika! Your hands must be blessed by Latona! Your dexterity is rivaled only by the swiftness of my- ooooh!"

The young man giggled uncontrollably outside the chamber, as quietly as he could. "Heeheehee…this is great!"

"Here, let us fall back and lay down together, shall we?"

Some more squeaky springs, and then silence for a moment. The man pressed himself against the door further and listened intently for any further noise. He was beginning to feel less and less interested, and his excitement was growing thin, until he heard another sudden moan from L'Arachel and his heart leapt.

"Ohhhh…Eirika, that is wonderful! Your skin is remarkably soft! Why, I don't think I have ever seen another woman's- or man's- skin so soft…you've bathed in the divine light too, haven't you? Oh, you cannot hide your royal secrets from me!"

The young man slid further down the door, one ear still pressed listening. One hand went bye-bye.

Eirika's voice: "No…well, I actually, I bathe under a spring. I use crushed leaves from the wild manabrush and aloe vera leaves to soften my skin when I wash…"

"Oh! The manabrush! Such plants could have a wonderful effect as that? Truly, I must have underestimated their benefits…next time, you simply _must_ invite me to Renais so I can partake of their glory myself. Ohhhh, that skin! That is the divine in human form! How…" –the voice shuddered, and the young man giggled again- "magnificent!"

The young man bartered with himself. Or maybe it was more accurate that he _reasoned_ with himself. Maybe it wasn't what it sounded li-

"Ohhhhh!"

Again! There it was! What else could it be?

"Ah, L'Arachel…that…that feels good right there…oh! Oh…"

Somewhere along the line, after listening to a whole lot of pleasantly suspicious noises, the young man realized he had a message to deliver.

He gulped. What was he gonna do? Just waltz in while they were potentially-

Okay, calm down, he told himself. It wasn't like anyone was going to kill him if he interrupted something important.

…

Or…were they?

On the verge of wetting himself again, the young man decided to bite the bullet. After all, the sounds of bedsprings and moaning and all that strange small talk was just normal stuff- probably some new massage treatment, or a War of Pillows, or perhaps it was just a strange new game that sounded remarkably like a classic old game. Try as he might, he found it difficult to avoid thinking of the implied kinkiness of the situation.

The messenger gulped once more, and, feeling as though he had been allowed the maximum number of gulps, grit his teeth and opened the door, expecting fully to see some lotion being rubbed into their skin or something equally innocuous-

"My lady L'Arachel! I bear a mess-aaaaaaahhhhhhh! Holy Lato-na! Y-you…you're…you're making l-"

And then he woke up. And hit the wall in frustration. And hurt his hand.

- - -

"Say, Eirika?"

"Mm? Yes?"

L'Arachel sat up and put one hand stoically on Eirika's hair, ruffling it. Eirika suppressed a laugh as L'Arachel continued.

"The evil fiends of the world may have been subverted…for now. But don't you agree that there is still an evil lurking in the deepest pits of Magvel?"

"Ah…such as what?"

"Why, rogues, of course! Bandits and brigands and all sorts of unsavory folk who pillage and go on terrible rampages! Recently there has been a swath of bandit attacks in the villages. They've been pillaging the villages! There's no rest for the weary!"

Eirika turned over on the light, fluffy pillow. It was a light fluffy bed, all cozy and comfortable and full of fluff. She sank deep into the bed so that it was like a fluffy, squishy island. Also, the bed was somewhere between "a lot" and "a whole lot" of inches high off of the ground so it was like a giant, squishy, fluffy, warm, inviting volcano. She spoke.

"That's awful! Have you been enforcing the laws?"

"Of course!" L'Arachel said, puffing her chest and shaking her humorously large nightgown and floppy sleeping hat and other various pieces of sleepwear. "We've been ruling with the divine will! But these fiends won't stop! Soon enough, I think I might have to ride out to defeat them myself!"

"Now, now," Eirika said, waving her hands sheepishly and nuzzling up against the soft pillow. "Don't do anything _too_ rash!"

"Ah! But Eirika! I don't have a rash!" L'Arachel insisted. "Perhaps it is the cleansers you use? I use a particularly fabulous one to maintain my perfect complexion and silky smooth skin. But even so!" She waved a hand around her dazzling white room, around to all the golden, beautiful trinkets and doodads and whatchamacallits lying around the room. In the process, she pointed out several of her valuable vases from the west of Frelia and some of her portraits of great people of Rausten from ages gone by. She sighed happily at the sight of these wonderful things.

"I must joyously and yet with burden reiterate say that I have a duty to purge this land of all evil! The idleness is killing me!" L'Arachel took off her sleeping cap and threw it off the bed with a grand flourish.

Whee!

"Is it really?" Eirika vividly and vicariously vociferated. "Stay a while. Take time to enjoy the idle things. I for one am immensely enjoying our idle time together."

She nuzzled the pillow again in a very cozy way.

"Ah…perhaps I can take some time to myself. And I must tend to my guest!" L'Arachel let herself go and fell back against the covers, her vibrant hair spraying out like a wave in all directions.

"It is so invariably comfortable here…" Eirika noted, putting an arm around the fellow princess and scratching the back of her neck. "Rausten is certainly a place of significant…comfort."

Comfort…what a nice word…

"Of course!" L'Arachel said, melting down into the covers of her featherbed and snuggling closer to Eirika. The Renais princess' sleepwear was incredibly soft too, a simple cotton shirt with fanciful dots and nothing more, and a baggy pair of striped sleeping pants. "The great saint Latona furnished my room with only the utmost of luxuries. And, of course, a fluffy featherbed! That is what happens when you side with such a just cause!"

"Is that truly how you received this bed?"

L'Arachel burst into her lofty laughter, and ran a hand through Eirika's hair, pulling her close. "Of course not, Eirika! I had a tailor custom-make this bed just for me."

"Oh…I see."

The two young women lay there close together on the bed, silent. L'Arachel had to look off at the wall opposite and her eyes closed. She let a long, puffy sigh escape her lips.

"What is it, L'Arachel?"

"I was…perhaps a bit afraid before."

Eirika sat up and looked into L'Arachel's eyes. Mind you, they were about a foot apart. Only a foot apart. "Why were you afraid?"

L'Arachel sat up. "Well, I was afraid that perhaps I would be a poor hostess. Of course, I have no reason to doubt my own hospitality, but…I was still…afraid."

L'Arachel sniffled and her eyes began to water and glass over.

"Oh, L'Arachel, don't cry…" Eirika slipped under the covers of the bed, and urged the fellow princess to do the same.

"Oh…oh dear, I'm sorry…" L'Arachel said, slipping under the covers but still bawling. "You must think me so weak, bawling in company so…sniff…"

"I don't think that way at all," Eirika insisted, stroking her friend's cheek and turning her face toward her own. "I remember what my brother once told me, and what I've always believed…crying just proves you are strong enough not to hide your emotions…"

L'Arachel sniffled and reached for Eirika's hand, missing several times before grasping onto her fingers. Each one touched hers, creating a warm, pillowy sensation. The lights should have grown dimmer in that moment. "Oh, Eirika…you are so…open-minded. How wonderful…"

"L'Arachel…"

"Ah…say, Eirika."

"Yes, L'Arachel?"

"Do you think that…perhaps…somehow…even with my graces…that my…my pillows are big enough?"

Eirika sat up and spit out the water she wasn't drinking in surprise. "W-what?"

"I mean, I was thinking, and…I don't mean to say my pillows are not the softest, most wonderful things you've ever seen, but"- L'Arachel fiddled with her nightgown- "I was, er…wondering what you thought of them."

"Ah, that is…they're…" Eirika thought for a moment with her hand on her chin. She broke out into a hot, hot, hot sweat. "They're nice, of course."

"I paid a lot of money to get them bigger," L'Arachel said, though she sounded surprisingly less confident than she usually did. "My old ones were small and rigid…but these ones are grand and magnificent…aren't they?" She puffed out her chest and tried to look grandiose.

"Ah…heh…a lot of money?" Eirika thought, wondering how she could have gotten them bigger with money? How could you do that? She briefly considered asking where L'Arachel got 'em so she too could have big, soft pillows like hers. "Um…of course, they are wonderful. I wouldn't have them any other way."

"Ah, Eirika!" L'Arachel said. "I'm so glad you think so! I myself think they wonderfully accentuate the marvelousness of the fluffy featherbed, don't you?" She picked up one of her huge, fluffy, pillows off of the bed (What? What were you thinking of?) and smacked Eirika around the face with it.

"Ah! What was that?" Eirika exclaimed, trying to suppress a giggle. She playfully grabbed a pillow herself in the spirit of playful playfulness. Now there were only about eight fluffy huge soft pillows left lying on the bed.

They used both their hands and they slammed each other with their pillows, pressing their pillows together and whacking each other. Eventually, each of them grew tired and dropped the pillow. What was left was two beautiful young women in their nightgowns just staring at one another.

"Eirika…"

"L…L'Arachel…"

Eirika touched L'Arachel's cheek with a hand, and L'Arachel placed a hand on Eirika's opposite cheek. They both trembled and blushed (because after a long, hot, intense, loving pillow fight and a conversation full of soft, pillowy innuendo, the one thing that would make a girl _really_ blush is a little gentle touch, right?). Chills ran up each of their spines; it was what they both wanted, without a doubt. The light was dim and they knelt still on the fluffy bed. They drew their faces closer.

Now, you _know_ this is the perfect scene for a kiss! There is absolutely, positively no doubt that something really, _really_ awesome is going to happen. Indubitably, irrevocably, undeniably, abso-freaking-lutely going to happen! Oh yeah.

The two girls closed their eyes, cooing the other's name softly, and touched their lips together-

…

and?

…

Then Eirika awakened. And fell back onto her very normal Renais pillow in depression. And hurt her back.

Then L'Arachel awakened. And threw herself backwards against the head of her lonely fluffy featherbed in exasperation. And hurt her head.


End file.
